Home Sweet Home
by Gingercookiessnaps
Summary: The series will be a bunch of one-shots. Each will have their own little plots, but those plots will tie together in the long run. Most of the one-shots will be parallel to Meryl's point of view; however, we would all like to know what Vash had been doing, right? (AU - set in our timeline - always complete)
1. Appreciation

**A/N: **I am in a slump with _Spanish Flu_, so I decided to write an AU series that has some parallels with the canon-verse. The story will be based around Meryl Stryfe (and Milly Thompson). Of course, its a bit different.

The series will be a bunch of one-shots. Each will have their own little plots, but those plots will tie together in the long run. Most of the one-shots will be parallel to Meryl's point of view; however, we would all like to know what Vash had been doing, right?

**Hint**: He's suffering though PTSD.

* * *

**Home Sweet Home **- **Appreciation **

The Ol' Skool Tavern was bustling with activity at least for one group of people. It was a reason to celebrate for the Thompson family. A new life was about to be introduced in the family - as if it wasn't big enough already. The guests of honor hadn't arrived, so those that were at tavern were having a damn good time.

It was happy hour after all.

Fifty cents for a beer and one dollar per hot wing was a great deal in such a small town. Yeah, everybody was drunk during happy hour except one person. Meryl Stryfe, adopted daughter of the Thompson family, sat in the corner of the building as she watched family and other customers drink to their hearts' content. Alcohol wasn't her style. She didn't like the taste nor the smell of it. It made her gag.

Oh, her family constantly told her she had to let loose. She wasn't willing to drink alcohol though. The young woman refused to drink when she turned twenty-one. Her thoughts of the drunken people were interrupted when Milly sat next to her. Milly Thompson, her partner in crime, was bad with her alcohol; however, she continued to drink it.

"Meryl!" she said with a trill to her voice. "I'm glad you came home from the university to celebrate with us. Older brother is going to be a father; its a great reason to celebrate."

"If we're celebrating a pregnancy, why are we celebrating it at a tavern?" questioned Meryl as she raised a sleek eyebrow. "The mother-to-be can't drink, right?"

"You know our family never thinks things through," laughed Milly as if it answered her "sister's" question.

Meryl sighed as she shook her head. The young woman would never understand her family. She leaned her head back on the chair as she thought about her life. At the age of 10, she was orphaned when her family died in a fire; Meryl was the only one to survive. At the age of 13, she was adopted by the Thompson family when she had become friends with Milly over split pudding. It was nice to have a family - if only they were there for her when she needed them.

"Oh! They're here, Meryl! Let's go say congrats."

"You go ahead, Milly. I'll talk to them later."

The quarter danced for her as she flicked it with her finger. It was the only interesting thing at the moment. The whole tavern was full of drunk people (some worse more than others), and she had thought about leaving. Her family wouldn't have liked the idea; they wanted her to celebrate with them. Though, she had ended up at the bar talking to the bartender. She was a nice lady, and Meryl appreciated her company. (She was the only other sober person in the bar as well.) Her company was called to attention when a customer slammed his glass on the countertop. She went to scold him about trying to break the glassware.

"You break it, you buy!" she screeched before getting another Miller Lite for the guy.

Meryl let out a sigh as she flicked the quarter once again. The woman had managed to find different ways to make it spin. Some ways allowed her to control where it spun and how far it could spin around on the countertop. Obviously, she was so much fun. Her tongue stuck out at the thought. She was stuck at a tavern celebrating with her family even though they were talking to all the other customers in the bar. Not to mention, the guests of honor had left nearly an hour ago.

"Fries?"

"No thanks. I definitely don't want curly fries from some complete stranger."

She stared at the basket of curly fries that hung under her nose. It definitely stopped her from drifting off. They smelled delicious, and it caused her stomach to grumble about lack of food. When was the last time she ate? Nearly 5 hours ago, right? Her eyes crossed as she stared at the food under her while she thought about when she had eaten last. It brought a chuckle out of the person that was offering her the fries. Her eyes narrowed to a glare as she turned to look at the intruder to her personal bubble. His green eyes sparkled in amusement and mischief before taking one of the fries and eating it.

"Suit yourself."

"Don't speak with your mouth full. You could choke."

He shrugged before grabbing another fry. The bartender returned to ask Meryl if she needed anything before she spied the stranger next to her. At least, Meryl thought he was a stranger. The woman smiled as she grabbed a shot glass to pour whiskey in it. Meryl's nose wrinkled as the smell hit her. Ugh, whiskey was the _worst _thing ever invented.

"About time you returned, Vash," the bartender spoke. "We were starting to think you'd never come back to Ol' Skool to keep us company. No matter how drunk you get after a few drinks."

"What I do is hard, Diane," he explained. "Sometimes it takes a few months. But, it only took a few weeks this time. Glad to know you guys missed me."

Your goofy grin is fake. The thought twirled around in Meryl's mind as she watched him interact with the customers beside him. She had come to realize that the seat next to her was the only one available. A frown etched on her face as she realized he was faking it. Pre-Law prepared you well for law school, and body language was one of the things you learned very quickly if you wanted to survive and graduate. She absentmindedly placed a fry to her mouth as she popped it in to chew. It felt good to have food in her stomach if only a measly fry. She went to take another one before the basket was removed from under her hand.

"Nope! You said you didn't want some," Vash chided in a childish tone. "Therefore, you're not allowed to change your mind. These are _all _mine."

Vash would be lying if he said her gawking expression wasn't amusing. Her mouth dropped open as she stared at him in shock. His giggles reached the forefront as he doubled over in laughter with his head knocking against the countertop. He placed the fries next to her once again as he tried to control his laughter. Meryl stared at him then at the fries before smirking. She moved the basket out of his reach before eating another fry.

"Well, they're mine now."

The reaction was instantaneous as his laughter stopped. It was Vash's turn to gawk at her in surprise now. Meryl ignored him as she went about eating the fries he so kindly offered to her nearly fifteen minutes before their childish exchange. He wouldn't have none of it. Vash reached across her to grab the basket. His arms were long enough to grab it as he drug it on the countertop. Diane laughed before she went to scold another drunk for slamming their frozen beer mugs onto the countertop. They'll never learn - they were drunk.

Between the two of them, the fries were gone before they had even arrived. After their little exchange, Vash had placed the basket between them - so they both could eat it. Company was welcoming even if you didn't know the person you were talking to at the moment. In a tavern in a small town, everybody talked and shared their food. It's not like they would have time to poison it. The place was crowded to the maximum anyway.

"Wow, this place is busy tonight," commented the blonde haired man as he looked around. "Special occasion?"

"My brother is going to be a father. Even though his wife and he had left, the rest of my family is still trotting around with beers and mixed drinks in their hands. It's why the place seems so full tonight; I have a huge family."

"Well, tell them I said congratulations!" he exclaimed. "New life should be celebrated to the fullest. Not to mention, I love children. They're so much fun to play with … they have the best games, you know?"

Meryl snorted, "You act like a child; henceforth, you will like to play with children. It's not that hard to figure out, Mr. Vash."

"You wound me," he whimpered while holding a hand to his heart. "That was hurtful, shortie."

Meryl's eye twitched. She heard the word shortie. Nobody called her a shortie and got away with it. She clenched and unclenched her left hand as to make sure she didn't do anything rash especially at a tavern full of drunks. If she started something, she'd never be able to leave. Her distraction came in the form of two men running into each other. She heard Diane whisper a "here we go again" before returning to the kitchen. She had orders to tell to the kitchen staff. Lavender eyes widened as she watched her surroundings. It happened so quickly.

One minute she was watching something fall toward her, somebody that one of the men had pushed to get out of his way, and they were going to land on her. She was short after all. Then the next minute, she was pressed against somebody, one of their arms around her waist, as the falling person smacked their head off the barstool she was sitting on. Her breath hitched as she realized that it could have seriously injured her. The person that saved her tightened his hold around her as to steady himself.

"Are you alright, Meryl?" Vash asked as she looked at the small woman.

"I-I'm fine," she managed to stutter out.

Her face flushed as she realized he was a lot closer than she would have liked him to be at the moment. Her personal bubble had been popped. He did save her, and she appreciated it. Her hand found his face as she slapped him. Vash let her go out of shock. Meryl hissed as she fixed her hair that had been messed as she was moved from her seat.

She really did appreciate him saving her from the falling drunken spectator.


	2. Goldie

**Home Sweet Home - Goldie **

The door to the apartment closed with a squeak. Vash fumbled for the light switch before flipping it on. He narrowed his eyes from the bright light before strolling into the living room. A clack of claws on the floor alerted him to the fact his best friend knew he was home. A golden retriever trotted around the corner before jumping on the couch. She gave a whine before padding the thing she was sitting at the moment. The man smiled as he sat on the couch. Goldie lay her head on his lap as he ran his fingers through her fur. She was the best thing to ever happen to him after - after - Goldie gave a whine as he pulled on her fur too long. She licked his hand before snuggling against him. He gave a sigh of relief before nuzzling the dog laying beside him. Goldie gave him relief when memories returned.

"I met the strangest woman," he began. "She was a spitfire. I didn't even get drunk at the tavern! I was busy trying to make friends with her. She looked lonely, Goldie. I had to do something."

The golden stared at him with amber eyes, and he gave a sigh. She always listened to him even if he told the most ridiculous stories. She licked his hand again as if telling him to continue. The dog was doing her job. She was keeping him calm. Therapy animals (especially dogs) were good for those diagnosed with PTSD. Vash ran a hand through his hair as he continued, "I offered her some fries. She refused them. They were _curly _fries, Goldie. She refused them! Then, she goes and eats them anyway."

"But, you know, it wasn't so bad. I saved her from being crushed by a drunkard. She smacked me in the face. I suppose I deserved it. I did pull her closer out of habit."

Goldie yelped then started to lick his face. Vash laughed as he tried to push her off of him. She definitely was his best friend. The dog wagged her tail before grabbing a piece of paper off the nightstand by the couch. Vash wrinkled his nose. He remembered writing a list for groceries. He supposed going now was as a good time as any. He had gotten up at the crack of dawn to jog around the neighborhood. It was nearly 11:00 AM, and he needed food. Goldie barked. She needed food as well.

"Alright, girl, let's go."

/ / / / /

Meryl rubbed her eyes as she stared at the list in her hands. Milly and she had been volunteered to shop for the family. Everybody was still in the same house as the party was yesterday. They needed food to make something for everybody. She was tired, cranky and wanted to go back to bed. She didn't even have her morning coffee. Milly ruffled her hair as she walked beside the shorter woman. Her head was pounding, but she knew it was from drinking too much last night. The young woman hoped she didn't do anything embarrassing - even if Meryl told her that nothing had happened while she _was _drunk.

"We need chicken," muttered Meryl as she stopped at the local grocery store. "We also need a whole bunch of other things, Milly. It's going to be a long grocery trip. I hate grocery shop …"

Her eyes found a familiar figure among the crowd of people at the store. He was rather tall after all. A dog, were dogs allowed, walked beside him. It had a harness around it. She squinted her eyes to read the words. Therapy Animal etched onto her mind. He had a therapy animal. She knew he was faking his smiling at the tavern last night. Deciding the best course of action, Meryl split the list as to get done twice as quick. Milly agreed before leaving with her half of the list. The college student sighed as she started toward the tall, blonde man in the red coat. She didn't understand why she was curious about him.

"I just want to meet the dog," she muttered. "Golden retrievers are absolutely gorgeous."

"Hello, Meryl!" he exclaimed shocking her out of her thoughts.

Her reply was a punch. Vash yowled as he rubbed where she had hit him. The spitfire had one hell of a punch; he would give her that much credit. Goldie barked beside him; however, he placed a hand on her head silencing her. Meryl was impressed. Goldie listened to him well. The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, "Why do you have a therapy dog?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," he answered.

Her hand magnetized to her mouth as she looked at him in shock. She hadn't meant to ask it. It was none of her business why he had a therapy dog. He obviously needed one, or he wouldn't have the dog. Vash snickered at her expression before flickering her across the forehead.

"I'm not mad at the question. A lot of people ask it. I've gotten used to it," he explained. "No biggy. Who knows … maybe one day I'll tell you."

A frown etched on her face as she saw his adorkable smile appear on his face. He wasn't telling her the truth. She knew such facts. Yet, he wanted to make sure she wasn't feeling bad about the question. Who was this idiot? She _wanted _to know the answer. Her eyes flickered toward the golden retriever as she stared at her with those amber eyes.

"You can pet her, you know," Vash said. "You're not really supposed to when she has the harness on, but I don't stop anybody - especially children."

Meryl held her hand to the dog. Goldie sniffed it before pushing her head against the woman's hand. A smile broke out on Meryl's face as she pet the dog. She longed for a pet. They were good company when you lived on your own at an apartment near school. Goldie licked her hand before pulling away and walking back to Vash's side. She didn't need a leash; the dog was well trained to stay with her charge.

"Her name's Goldie, by the way."


	3. Nightmares

**A/N**: I want to thank the person that gave me the alert and favorite. It means a lot especially since I have a lot of ideas about these one-shots in the series. There's a jump between Goldie and Nightmares. I never said I'd do them in chronological order - wait, they will be in chronological order. Gaps will happen though. I apologize in advance if you get confused.

In other words, I would love some reviews about this series. Is it bad? Is it good? Is it meh? I work hard on what I do when I write fan fiction. It's hard to keep characters in character.

Also, plants _do _exist in this universe. Vash is still a plant. He's seen a lot, but the needless killings during the Holocaust probably traumatized him. He was under orders from the army he was allied with at the time. Oops - I don't want to give all of his backstory away in this ridiculously long author's note. Enjoy _Nightmares_!

* * *

**Home Sweet Home **- **Nightmares **

He couldn't mistaken the gunpowder smell and screams of terror. The people were treated as cattle while being loaded in cattle cars of various trains. He winced as children cried for their mothers as they were separated in the crowd. He couldn't do anything for them. His eyes were closed tight as if closing them would block out the noise. The cocking of a gun had them snapping open. A child had fallen out of line. One of the guards stood above her with the barrel of the gun facing her. She let out a choked sob as she realized she was alone. The guard smiled as he pulled the trigger. People screamed and cried as they watched the girl fall to the platform - dead - and she wasn't coming back. He watched her mother fall to her knees in shock at the scene. She had lost her daughter - her precious child. He could do nothing as he shut his eyes. A bang followed.

/ / / / /

Goldie whined as she turned the light on with a push of her nose. Vash sat straight in bed, trying to catch his breath, as he clenched his sheets in his hands. Tears streamed down his face as he tried to control the sobs that ransacked his body. He didn't sleep. When he did, the nightmares began. Goldie placed her head on the bed as she whined at him. He smiled a the Golden Retriever before placing a hand on her head. She pushed her head into his palm as he started to pet her. She licked his arm before pulling it back into her mouth. He was petting her with his prosthetic arm. The metal was cold to the touch. He pulled on her fur, not hard, but enough for her to realize he was still not all there with her.

Goldie wasn't a dumb dog; she knew when her charge was in distress.

"S-Sorry, girl," he said as his sobs subsided. "I woke you, didn't I?"

He got a bark in return to his question. Vash chuckled as he ruffled her fur on her head. She jumped on the bed, twirled around, and lay beside him with her head on his stomach. He continued to pet her as he stared at the ceiling. He's seen so many things in all the years he had been on the planet. Many wars passed his vision. Battles - people killing each other - but known had affected him as much as that world war. The senseless killing of people, because they were _different_. It had almost made him laugh. He lifted his hand as he stared at it. Never aging. He wished he aged with the others on the planet. He didn't.

"I'm not even human."

He heard his helper whine as she nudged his stomach. He laughed as it tickled, but the laughter didn't last long. It was hard to come out of his memories when they resurfaced. It was hard. His eyes darkened as the nightmares came to the forefront of his mind. He reached for his gun that lay, locked, in the nightstand. Goldie barked. His hand stopped. Eyes shut tight, Vash tried to think of happier thoughts. Happy thoughts were good. They were great! The best! Nothing wanted to appear before him. Nothing could drowned out the nightmares.

"You're such a broom head. Where do you put those things? It can't be your stomach."

"Don't question the goodness of donuts," he said as he stuffed more donuts in his mouth. "They were the greatest invention of mankind."

"You're just a pig."

Vash's head fell as the nightmares dissipated as he continued to go through the memories of the past few days. From their meeting in the tavern to their unconventional meeting at the coffee shop, it flickered through his mind. It had been a few days since he met the shortie in the tavern. He hadn't decided to leave to travel, and he had seen her at least a few times in the past week. Of course, it was a given. The town _was _small. He ran a hand through his hand before giving a quiet laugh. He needed to get away from the town.

Being close to anybody had only led to disaster.

Goldie barked to gain his attention. His fake hand had been gripping her fur too hard. He let go before hugging the dog apologizing all the while. He never meant to hurt his only companion. She was important to his life. Goldie licked his face as if saying 'stop apologizing'. She was trained to handle the sorts of things such as the fur being pulled on her head. Her tail wagged as it hung from the side of the bed. She noticed her charge had seemed happier recently. Vash sighed as he placed his head against her fur.

"I won't be going to sleep for awhile, girl," he muttered. "Nightmares are horrid things to bear."

Goldie could only whine in opposition to his words. Dogs weren't stupid. Vash sometimes thought they were smarter than all other creatures on the planet. In fact, he could probably be true. They listened to you and never judged you. Dogs were great conversation companions even though they never say a word. (Dogs can't talk after all). Vash kissed her moist nose before grinning. They were going to go on a trip for awhile. Somewhere to clear his mind. He'd return eventually … the place seemed his home. He'd never truly want to leave it.


End file.
